


Fury of the Fallen

by CorundumBleu



Series: Cornifer's Compendium: Short Tales from the World of Hollow Knight [2]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Canon Typical Violence, Ghost dies (I'm so sorry), Inspired by Gameplay, No beta we die like mne, Sapphire can't edit this one because it's too spoilery and she hasn't finished the game, also Steel Soul is pretty metal, angry vessel, much respect - Freeform, not stritctly canon compliant, pun intended, seiously people who use Fury of the Fallen are insane, written by Ruby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28656882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorundumBleu/pseuds/CorundumBleu
Summary: This was inspired by watching some incredible Fury of the Fallen/Steel Soul fights on Youtube. It got me thinking: What kind of Vessel would choose that path?In this version of events, all the vessels share a connection through their Void nature and can feel what is happening to each other to some extent. This vessel is not Ghost… but it might be the vessel that answers the call after all the heroic Ghosts have failed.
Series: Cornifer's Compendium: Short Tales from the World of Hollow Knight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100141
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	Fury of the Fallen

This vessel was angry.

It fell through the air, aerodynamic as a homing missile, and hurtled towards the paved stone of the King’s Pass. It landed in a crouch, allowing its liquid Void core to absorb the shock of the impact, before straightening up and striding forward purposefully.

_ It hadn’t always been this mad. At first it had just... been. Born of Void, content in the darkness of its birthplace with its siblings. Until one day when the light from above had called, reminding them of their Wyrm heritage and promising lives in the world above. The siblings had risen up as one, ascending like a black tide through the cavern, taking precipitous leaps from ledge to ledge in their haste to answer the call. Many had faltered from exhaustion, slipped on rough footing, or vaulted brashly into chasms too wide for them to clear. Each mistake sent another sibling, another droplet of Void, tumbling back into the abyss, masks shattered by the impact onto spikes or the cavern floor below.  _

_ At that time they were still mostly One, connected through their Void nature, cursed to feel the pain of each fellow sibling who plummeted to their demise. That agony... one could not experience a thousand deaths and remain the same. With each death--no, each  _ **_execution_ ** _ \--this vessel found its thoughts becoming more independent and clear--a mind focused by resentment and desperation. _

The vessel found its way blocked by a door, ancient and crumbling. With a decisive slash of its nail it demolished the obstruction and continued onwards.

_ This vessel was not the first to reach the top--and thank the Lord of Shade for that, now that it knew what that one had to endure later. Nor was it the second, or the third--those who arrived next were tossed callously back into the abyss. By the time this vessel had reached the top the door out had been shut and locked. With it went the only source of light this vessel had ever known, its only promise of a future of freedom and individuality. It had beat its small fists on that door for hours, or maybe years, silently screaming with voiceless, impotent rage.  _

Another door, struck down without slowing. The vessel paid no heed to the beautiful, ancient carvings that crumbled beneath its weapon. These ruins did not deserve its reverence.

_ In time, the vessels had found other ways out of the Abyss. Cracks in the ceiling, squeezes that no grown bug could have fit through, or ancient passages that lay blocked by centuries of crumbled debris that would take a lifetime to clear. But the vessels were small, and they had nothing but time. One by one the siblings began to bleed away into the larger world, armed only with makeshift nails fashioned from the spikes that lined their birthplace. This vessel did not follow them, but it felt them go, indulged in their wonder at the places they discovered, and suffered their pain as they were inevitably struck down by the dangers of the world above.  _

A crawlid nosed its way toward the vessel, pincher-like mandibles clicking threateningly. The vessel dispatched it indifferently with a flick of its nail, leaving behind a messy orange smear. Poor, dumb thing. It was beyond saving.

_ No, this vessel had not wanted to leave its birthplace. It had felt too… too betrayed. Let others follow that phantom promise of light and life the Wyrm had cursed them with. The darkness was cool and comfortable, and within its embrace it could pretend not to feel the screams of its siblings who died in the above-lands. _

_ But there had been one voice it had not been able to ignore. The First Vessel. The one the Wyrm had accepted. All of its siblings felt its struggle--the exhaustion from its relentless training, the aches from being forced to grow unnaturally fast, the all-encompassing desire to please its--their--father, while also knowing that that very desire meant it was failing. And its dread at what it knew to be its inevitable fate. _

_ Then that day had come, the day it had become both captive and captor. The First Vessel had been sealed away in the Black Egg Temple where the soft, spoiled bugs of Hallownest would be unable to hear the shrieks of rage from the god contained within its Void. But the rest of the vessels… they too were void, and those screams had vibrated every fiber of their bodies. Each one felt it crack their shells, rip their limbs, infect and distend their bodies. The pain! It had no end!  _

_ On that day, this vessel finally climbed out of the Abyss and fled to the wastes beyond Hallownest. Anything-- _ **_anything_ ** _ \--to escape that pain. _

Now there were ledges to ascend--a simple task after the ordeal of escaping the Abyss all those years ago. It passed the cracked husk of some bug that had long ago lost its footing and fallen to its demise and felt nothing but disdain. Why should it? Through its siblings it had felt a thousand worse deaths.

_ This vessel didn’t know how long it had wandered the wastes, but it found some solace there. The distance dampened the pain to a tolerable level, and the howling winds drowned out the sound of any shrieks from its sibling that might echo within it. The wastes dulled its mind without stealing it entirely--the Void half of its nature protected it from that fate--and for a time it was able to forget its anger, and perhaps even begin to forgive the cruelties of its upbringing. _

_ And then.  _

_ Then the Kingdom of Hallownest had the nerve to call them back. _

A chasm of spikes blocked its way, glinting evilly in the gloom. It braced itself, then took a running leap. As soon as its feet had left the safety of the ledge it knew it wasn’t going to make it, that the gap was too wide. A moment later, a hundred needles pierced its body. Agony. Void oozed from the punctures.

No matter. The pain would make it strong. 

_ It resisted the call for as long as it could. It could feel its siblings, by then scattered far beyond the borders of the Hallownest, oblige the summons and return to their ancestral lands. It felt them throw themselves into the deadly task of freeing the kingdom. Some fell at the hands of infected husks, others perished on thorns or in acid. Occasionally, some would get further before dying at the hands of those that still protected the Dreamers.  _

_ This vessel felt each death rekindle the burning hatred in its heart. How dare the kingdom ask for their sacrifice now, after all it had done to them? It birthed them into darkness, teased them with light, and then punished those who sought it. It had condemned the First Vessel to eternal suffering to extend its own longevity, and through it the siblings all shared the same fate. Now, after clawing their way to freedom, the Kingdom asked them to sacrifice their lives in order to undo the curse it had brought upon itself. _

_ This vessel  _ **_hated_ ** _ it for this. _

The vessel prepared itself once more to make the leap. This time as it fell towards the spikes it struck downwards with its nail, using the moment to propel itself forward. Its timing was off, though, and it plunged once more onto the sharp stalactites below. Twice more it attempted this, each time suffering physical punishment for its failure. Each injury stoked its temper into a blazing inferno and swelled its determination to conquer the obstacle.

Finally, on its fifth attempt to cross the spikes it succeeded in clearing the gap. It stumbled forward, Void spurting from the numerous lacerations on its body. Darkness ringed its vision, threatening to overtake it, but the anger in its heart would not allow it to stop now.

It could see a red glow coming from the chamber ahead...

_ The final straw came soon after. _

_ With enough vessels throwing themselves at the task--and the Wyrm and his Queen had not skimped on creating prototypes for their “perfect” Hollow Knight--some were bound to succeed. The Dreamers fell one by one. The Temple door was thrown wide. The Gendered Child awaited a hero that could face the Infection at its heart. _

_ A hero appeared. It had a strength forged through unthinkable hardships and a dogged will to survive that had seen it through innumerable trials. This vessel felt the snap within itself when the hero broke the bindings on their sealed sibling and the roar the First Vessel gave in response as it began to fight back, maddened by its years of torment and desperate for release. _

_ And then... the hero failed. Slain by their own sibling, who had been twisted beyond recognition by the machinations of their cruel father.  _

_ The indignity could be born no longer. This vessel finally turned and set their sights once more towards Hallownest with vengeance in its heart. _

The vessel entered the chamber, limping and near death. The room glowed with a menacing scarlet light, illuminated by a glowing inscription on the wall. 

**_LET ALL BASK IN YOUR MAJESTY FOR ONLY THIS KINGDOM COULD PRODUCE ONES SUCH AS YOU._ **

The vessel bristled. How dare their creators claim credit for what its siblings had achieved? They were strong in spite, not because, of what they had endured.

Something gleamed on a pedestal in the center of the room--a small pin, glowing from within like a hot coal. The vessel limped forward and seized it greedily. 

A fierce, burning feeling swept through its limbs. Its pain was swept away by an anger that raged like a blazing inferno, suffusing it with a strength it had never known. The black around its vision receded, replaced with red. Yes, this was what power felt like. With this, the vessel would avenge its fallen siblings, and remove the need for who still lived to sacrifice themselves. It would rampage through the ruined kingdom and drive its nail through the evil that sat at its heart. It would destroy the last vestiges of its father’s legacy and free its sealed sibling from eternal torment.

This was the Fury of the Fallen, and Hallownest would bow before its wrath.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! The idea for this came to me all in a rush one night while I was procrastinating by watching Pantheon runs with Fury of the Fallen/Steel Soul in Godhome. Some Vessels be cray like that, you know?
> 
> This is much angstier than I usually like to write, but it was a fun exercise. If you want to read something a bit more light and fluffy, check out my previous HK fic "Tea and Relics" which features Ghost, Lemm, and our best boi Quirrel. <3 
> 
> Hope you have a nice day, and I hope you'll drop a comment if you liked this and want to see more! :)


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